INGLORIOUS MEDIC

well, i'll be damned

**slight idea borrowed for this chapter, couldn't find the user to credit but if y'all know pls lmk in the comments **

After the loss of a few of his bastards, Aldo had been thinking about a lot of things. How he had failed them, what he could have done to save them. A big part of that was they were undermanned, and also they didn't have a proper medic. Sure, Wicki had some medical training, but he was no nurse. They needed an actual field medic, and that's just what they were gonna find. 

Aldo never saw him as a prejudice man, he wanted to give everyone a free shot, unbiased. The OSS had worked with him, and gave him the files of multiple medics and nurses, no pictures, no names. Just credentials and he'd get to meet them along with his entire team, one by one. The bastards met in Paris where they had decent lodging for the first time in months, which was a breath of fresh air. In the back of his mind, he knew that not many of the nurses would probably be able to keep up with the way they lived life in the wilderness, nor did his southern heart want to make them deal with any of that. It was rough, sleeping on leaves, showering every 2-3 days and being soaked in blood and freezing half the time. He didn't know what woman in her right mind would willingly sign up for that. But like he said, he would treat everyone as equals. 

The bastards walked into a large building, showed their IDs and were let in to the main entrance. There, they were greeted by the secretary working behind the desk. "Hey there darlin', you mind pointin' us in the direction of where General Ross is?" The older woman smiled, and pointed down the hall to the left. "Just down that way, second door on the right.", her French accent was thick. The youngest bastard, Hirschberg, looked at her. She was probably some French soldier's mom, no doubt. A lot of the older women went into the war to do jobs like this so most of the men could focus on fixing planes and fighting. It reminded him of how much he missed his own mother, who cried the minute he left for infantry school. 

The group walked into the office, Aldo and his men saluting the general. General Ross smiled and puffed on his cigar. "Take a seat gentleman. I have six candidates for you, three nurses, and three field medics. You asked for them to remain nameless, so we white out'd all their names. All you have are their stats, credits, ages and backgrounds." He slid the six manila envelopes to Aldo, who opened the first one. Nurse, 3 years in, worked 2 months with rangers but indoors/in tent. Seen 0 combat. Age 23, two kids back home, from Maryland. No previous training or working with weapons. Aldo slid it off to the left side, seemed alright, but not exactly what he was looking for. He stopped at the fifth one, making sure he had read it correctly. Field combat medic, worked beside/with army rangers for 2 years, active in combat, 3 years in. Age 24, no kids. From Georgia. Previous training for combat medic and infantry. Ample weapon training. 

Now to be fair, that was expected of the field medics. But what really caught his eye was Georgia, another person from the south. It piqued his interest, and he slid it to the right, where the other two folders he wanted to see were. General Ross collected them, and asked Aldo which pile he wanted to see. Numbers 3, 5, and 2. In that order. 

The first field medic came in, decorated in his uniform with medals a gleaming. Seeing as his whole team were dressed in civilian clothes, it did rub him the wrong way. He bragged about his accomplishments, his kills, and why they should pick him. He was the best choice, he preached to them. The LT smiled politely, then shared a knowing look with the general. He was not it, for sure. The general came in and told LT Raine that applicant 5 was busy, and switched times with 2. Aldo said that was fine. 

Applicant 2 was a nurse, a tiny blonde woman who looked about 27. She looked very frail, but nice. Almost too nice, Aldo needed someone that would keep them in check. She seemed smart enough, asked her questions about her life and it was pretty bland. Knew her way around a tourniquet though. She left, and the men looked between themselves. Better her than the asshole field medic. General Ross walked in with applicant 5, and all the bastard's eyes widened a bit. She had the meanest eyes, but the sweetest smile. 

She walked in, and shook Aldo's hand. "Nice to meet ya sir, names Azalea Rogers." She had a little southern twang, like Aldo's but a tad lighter. The field combat medic was dressed in a regular shirt and some slacks. Normal civilian attire. She wasn't frail like the nurse, had some good muscle on her. Donny couldn't stop staring at her taut legs, but that's Donny for ya. 

Aldo began to question her about her stats, kills and trainings. "But tell me, SPC Rogers, what did ya do back home?" She smiled that bright smile, and adjusted herself in the chair she sat in. "Worked on my daddy's farm, bout it. Pretty mundane life. Rose the horses and wrangled the cattle." Aldo looked at the general, nodding. "Well Miss Rogers, thank ya. Go on ahead and wait outside for me." 

She stood, exiting and LT Raine looked at his men. "What y'all think of Ms. Rogers?" After a pause, Smitty was the first to speak up. "In a weird, southern belle way, she kinda reminds me of my mom." Aldo smiled. "Just what I wanted to hear."

After about five minutes, she walked back into the room. Her smile was gone for a moment, and she had a serious gaze that could cut someone in half until she smiled, and lightened up her expression. "Have a seat Miss Rogers." She sat down, and folded her hands into her lap. 

"We pondered it a bit, and you seem like the medic to keep my boys in line and safe. I value that. Now I got one question for you, you like killin' Nazi's?" Azalea leaned